


Safety First

by Finduilas



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers Tower, Bucky Barnes has a soft gooey center, Domestic Avengers, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Movie Night, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Team, Revelations, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Has No Filter, and it gets him in trouble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:29:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27304894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finduilas/pseuds/Finduilas
Summary: Tony does something kind of stupid and the rest of the team has to make sure nothing happens to him. They all take that very seriously. Though some really go above and beyond...
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Comments: 14
Kudos: 341





	Safety First

**Author's Note:**

> Don't try and figure out where this fic would fit in the MCU timeline: It won't. Bucky and Sam living at Avengers Towers with the OG6? Check. Peter visiting all the time? Check. JARVIS still being operational? Check. 
> 
> Many thanks to Gemma for the beta!

“Tony…” Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. He sounds exasperated like only Steve Rogers can be. 

“Look, don’t make a big deal out of this,” Tony says off-handed as he pours himself another cup of coffee. 

“Here we go…” Tony can hear Sam mutter to Bucky. 

“Tony,” Steve says firmly and Tony feels almost guilty because Steve looks  _ beyond _ done.

“Relax, Cap,” Tony says, bringing the cup to his lips before taking a tiny sip of the scalding hot beverage. He does his best to pretend he didn’t just burn his tongue. “It’ll be fine.” 

“Tony!” Steve bites out, his face scrunched together in an interesting mix of anger and worry. 

“Yes, that’s my name,” Tony says and he knows he’s treading on thin ice here, yet he just can’t seem to help himself. Teasing Steve is one of his favorite pastimes. “I think we’ve established that by now.” 

“This isn’t funny, Tony,” Bruce interjects, and the look that accompanies it is effective enough to shut Tony up. 

Tony looks around the room over the edge of his cup as he takes another sip. Everyone’s attention is focused on him and not in a good way. Bruce looks nervous and worried. Sam and Clint are rolling their eyes without actually rolling their eyes - it’s an interesting quality that only the two of them possess, Tony thinks. Natasha is definitely pissed off and if Tony never has to be on the receiving end of her death stare again, it’ll still be too soon. Bucky has his arms crossed in front of his chest, his jaw clenched and he’s staring at Tony with a look that spells “constipated”. And Steve, well...

“Do you have a death wish?” Steve asks, fixing Tony with an angry stare. 

“Of course I don’t!” Tony says with a sigh, putting his cup down on the counter, because he can see he’s in for  _ a talk _ , no matter what.

“You’ve got a funny way of showing it, man,” Clint says, shaking his head. 

“You do realize that you basically  _ challenged _ the New York mafia to put a hit out on you?” Natasha asks, hands on her hips. 

“I did no such thing,” Tony brushes off, because saying ‘challenges are all the rage these days’ doesn’t seem like it will be appreciated right now. It’s itching though. 

“Do we need to show you the footage of the press conference again?” Steve asks, fuming. 

“No,” Tony says quickly, and because he already knows what his A.I. is preparing, he adds, “JARVIS, don’t. It’s not necessary, I know exactly what I said.” 

“Then you know that it was beyond stupid,” Steve scolds him. 

“Stark Industries worked really hard to clean up that neighborhood,” Tony is preparing himself to launch into a speech, “To set up those projects, to give underprivileged - ” 

“We know that, Tony,” Natasha interrupts him, oddly calm. 

“Then you know I’m not going to let the mob have free reign there again!” Tony says firmly, because he simply won’t let that happen. 

“You think maybe there could have been another way besides telling all the major mob bosses that they don’t have what it takes to stop you?” Clint asks, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Or calling them gutless and spineless?” Natasha adds with a sigh. 

“And what was that you said about the size of their balls…?” Sam trails off. Out of the corner of his eye, Tony can see Bucky inhale sharply through his nose and he looks like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin. It’s a little bit scary, if Tony is completely honest. 

“JARVIS!” Tony calls out in warning. 

“Very well, Sir, I won’t,” comes the answer, and even JARVIS sounds angry, “But if I may, Sir? Your personal safety and that of the peop- ”

“I know,” Tony sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. He knows he’s defeated when even JARVIS gangs up on him with the rest of them. “I  _ know _ . Maybe this wasn’t my smartest move, alright? I get that.” It’s not that he enjoys admitting he’s wrong, but there really is no other way to go from here. Not when he’s got a squad of superheroes cornering him. 

“Okay,” Steve says, squaring his shoulders, “We need a plan.” 

“You probably shouldn’t do too many public appearances right now,” Bruce says. 

“Best to stay inside the Tower, to be honest,” Natasha adds, nodding. “Security here is pretty solid, with JARVIS on top of it.” 

“Thank you, Agent Romanoff,” JARVIS says, pleased. 

Natasha actually  _ winks _ at the nearest camera. 

“I’m not going to lock myself up in this Tower forever,” Tony says. 

“Just until Rapunzel comes to wake you with a kiss,” Sam says with a cheeky grin, and out of the corner of his eye Tony swears he can see Bucky clench his jaw even more firmly. As if his jawline couldn’t already cut through glass.

“You’re mixing up your fairytales there, Birdboy,” Tony says, but Sam just keeps up the smirk. 

“If you go outside, you’re taking one of us with you,” Steve says, and even though his voice sounds like this isn’t up for discussion, Tony wouldn’t be Tony if he didn’t at least try. 

“I don’t need bodyguards,” Tony says, “You know I’m a fully fledged superhero myself, right?” 

“I also know that you’re human, not to mention mortal,” Steve argues. 

Tony opens his mouth to say something, but Bruce cuts him off with a hand on his shoulder. 

“We’re done, Tony,” Bruce says, calm and decided, “This is how it’ll be until we’re certain the threat has passed. I’ll call Jane to see if she’s been in contact with Thor. Having a God on-world wouldn’t be the worst idea for this.” 

Tony exhales through his nose, not quite sure if it’s worth arguing anymore over. 

“When it comes to the measures we’ll take to make sure you stay alive, this isn’t a democracy,” Steve says, his voice annoyingly righteous. “And even if it was, you’d be outnumbered.” 

Tony looks around at his friends, all regarding him with a mix of annoyance, worry, and love. Any argument he has left catches in Tony’s throat. They genuinely care about him and it’s not something Tony ever thought he’d have. It might not be the worst thing in the world to listen to them. 

He sighs and nods, accepting his fate. 

“Captain’s orders,” he mutters. 

***

After the discussion with the team, Tony gets yelled at by Pepper - through the phone - and gets a lecture from Rhodey - in person - as well as a determined assurance from Happy that he won’t let anything happen to him. 

The absolute worst though is when Peter comes around and looks gut wrenchingly heartbroken at the thought of anything happening to Tony. It’s then that Tony vows to at least  _ try _ and uphold the safety rules the team have laid out for him. It also earns him a hug from Peter, which is surprisingly nice. 

They seem to have set up a schedule between them, and Tony wouldn’t want to call it babysitting, but it sure is what it feels like sometimes. 

Taking a breath of fresh air on the balcony has him accompanied by Clint, perched up on the railing with his bow, eyes scanning their surroundings. 

A trip to the garage to get something he left in his car about a month ago makes a stern-looking Captain America suddenly appear with arms crossed in front of his chest and has him promise that  _ no _ , he wasn’t planning on skipping out on his own, he was never going to leave the garage alone, he promised after all. 

A plan to go out for a little tour in the Iron Man suit -  _ surely _ he was safe in there - is foiled by Peter’s begging puppy-dog eyes. Tony clearly is powerless against those. 

In his workshop though… in his workshop Tony is safe and blissfully alone. Or so he thought. 

Tony isn’t quite sure how long he’s been tinkering with the latest version of the suit - embarrassingly long if he really thinks about it - before he notices the shadow sitting on the edge of the couch in the corner of the workshop. 

“Jesus Christ!” Tony calls out, startled, the pliers flying out of his hand and falling to the floor with a loud clang. 

Piercing blue eyes regard him as Bucky moves forward, leaning his elbows on his knees. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Tony asks, trying to get his heart to stop jumping out of his chest. 

Bucky doesn’t actually reply, just fixes him with a stare that makes it perfectly clear Tony should know. 

“The workshop is safe!” Tony says, firmly, “Even Steve agreed on that.” 

“The workshop is safe,” Bucky replies monotone, shifting a bit in his seat. 

“Exactly,” Tony says. 

“Which is why you didn’t notice I was here,” Bucky says, deadpan. 

Tony opens his mouth but snaps it shut with a click. 

“You’re all gonna drive me insane,” Tony shakes his head, exasperated. 

“Better insane than dead,” Bucky says, leaning back against the couch again, his eyes still on Tony. 

“So… what?” Tony asks, looking between Bucky and his work bench. “You’re just gonna sit there and watch me?” 

“I did before,” Bucky simply shrugs. 

“I didn’t know before!” Tony calls out, and his brain is suddenly scrambling to remember if he did anything embarrassing before realizing Bucky was there, like talking to himself or singing or dancing or  _ farting _ . Not that Bucky wouldn’t have deserved a cringe-worthy show, it’s just that, if Tony is completely honest with himself, he kind of cares what Bucky thinks of him.

“Does Steve know you’re here?” Tony asks, picking up the pliers that he dropped earlier. 

“I’m sure he won’t mind extra security,” Bucky says with no emotion audible in his voice. 

“So that’s a no then,” Tony says, and then a thought occurs to him. He huffs out an annoyed sigh, because Tony might not have known that Bucky was there, but... “ _ JARVIS! _ ”

***

“So who has the pleasure of accompanying me today?” Tony asks JARVIS as he fixes his tie. 

“That would be Sergeant Barnes, Sir,” JARVIS answers, dutifully. 

“Huh,” Tony frowns as he inspects himself in the mirror, smoothing down his tie. “I thought I heard Sam say it would be him.” 

“It was, but he switched with Sergeant Barnes,” JARVIS informs him. 

“Oh…” Tony says, his tie forgotten for a moment, “Didn’t Bucky switch with Nat the other day as well?” 

“I believe so, Sir,” JARVIS says. 

“And when I had that SI meeting yesterday…” Tony trails off. 

“Mister Odinson was initially on the schedule,” JARVIS says, and there’s a hint of nonchalance that doesn’t quite sound sincere to Tony’s ears. 

“So…” Tony says, his fingers coming up to tap at the arc reactor through his shirt because he suddenly feels his heart pounding in his chest, “Did everyone else just get tired of babysitting me, or, uh, did Bucky lose a bet or something?” 

“No, Sir,” JARVIS says, smoothly, “It would appear that Sergeant Barnes is the one requesting these changes.” 

“Right,” Tony says, swallowing around a sudden dryness in his throat, “I guess those supersoldiers have a hard time delegating work.” 

“Yes, Sir,” JARVIS answers without much conviction, “That must be it.” 

***

“As long as you’re here anyway,” Tony starts, doing his best to sound annoyed even though he knows it’s complete bullshit anyway. He has come to like these little moments alone with Bucky, though he’d never admit to that of course. “You might as well make yourself useful,” Tony continues as he walks up on a stepping stool to reach the top of the new mark comfortably. 

“Where do you need me?” Bucky asks, stoic as ever, but he walks over to Tony instantly. 

“If you could just hand me those pieces when I need them?” Tony waves his hand at the workbench, “So I don’t need to get up and down this ladder a million times.” 

“Sure,” Bucky says, and does exactly what he’s told as Tony starts tinkering away at the mark. Bucky gives him the right tools and suit-plates at the right time. 

“I could use Dum-E, but he has the tendency to hand me the wrong things and it drives me insane,” Tony mutters. He thinks he sees the hint of a smile on Bucky’s face. “Not to mention that he has complete butterfingers.” 

It’s not that Tony is paying particular attention to him - alright, so maybe that’s a lie - but every once and again, Tony has a feeling that Bucky wants to say something, only for him to look over and be met with expectant silence. 

“What?” Tony asks the fifth time it happens, and Bucky’s eyes twitch a little bit, like he didn’t expect to be called out. 

“Nothing,” Bucky says, shaking his head slightly, “Sorry.” 

“What are you sorry for?” Tony asks with a frown, looking down at Bucky from the top of his step ladder. 

“I was just wondering…” Bucky trails off, his eyes flicking over to the armor. 

“Spit it out, Snowflakes,” Tony says as he hands Bucky one of his screwdrivers. 

“What are you - ?” Bucky asks hesitantly, then frowns, “Could you tell me…?” He trails off, glancing over at the mark again. 

“You want me to tell you what I’m doing?” Tony asks, wondering, “Like, explain to you how this works?” 

There’s a faint blush appearing on Bucky’s cheekbones and it might be the most adorable thing Tony has ever seen in a brainwashed ex-assassin. He can’t help the grin that threatens to show on his face. 

“You don’t have to, but…” Bucky shrugs, like he doesn’t want to be an imposition on Tony. 

“You know there are very few things I love more than hearing myself talk, right?” Tony asks with a wink, in hopes of taking the edge off of Bucky’s apparent embarrassment. 

It succeeds in eliciting a smile from Bucky, so Tony counts it as a win. He then starts explaining the basic workings of the suits, the improvements he’s trying to make on this particular mark, and somehow sidesteps into the history of clean energy and, weirdly enough, space travel. He’s not entirely sure how he got there - or how he comes back to the Iron Man suits - but Bucky listens studiously to it all. To Tony’s absolute delight, Bucky asks intelligent and relevant questions, which is a side of Bucky that Tony wasn’t familiar with. 

Tony might be a little bit too lost in thought and explanations when he tries to move up the next step of the ladder, only to discover there is no next step and he’s planting his foot in nothingness. There’s a yelp escaping his mouth as he loses his balance and his other foot slips off the ladder as well and he’s fully expecting to hit the floor any time now, except… 

Bucky’s reflexes are quick and his arms ridiculously strong, and Tony finds himself blinking as he realizes that no, he didn’t hit the ground. Instead, Bucky caught him in his fall - seemingly easily - and now he’s got one of Bucky’s arms underneath his one thigh, and the other wrapped around Tony’s back, his stomach pressed up against Bucky’s chest, and it’s a clumsy hold but a strong and reassuring one at that. He braces his arms on Bucky’s shoulders as he looks down, only to find Bucky’s face looking back up at him, blooming in a warm grin. 

“Good reflexes,” Tony says, ignoring the way his voice comes out a little breathless. He blames it on the fall. 

“Steve would kill me if I let you fall on your face while I’m on duty,” Bucky says, somewhat nonchalant, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Tony’s. Nor his hands off Tony’s body for that matter and somehow Tony can’t bring himself to slip free either. So he just stares back, takes note of the grey and blue of Bucky’s eyes, the littlest hint of brown hidden in there somewhere like it’s just a suggestion. The way they’re framed by long dark eyelashes. The way Bucky’s mouth is slightly parted, lips obscenely pink. Tony can feel his own mouth go dry, can feel his body fight with every muscle not to give in to that quiet longing he didn’t know was there to lean down and…

And then Bucky blinks a few times rapidly, as if a spell is broken, and his face turns to steel again as he softly lets Tony down, releases him from his grip as Tony’s feet are firmly planted on the ground again. His knees feel ridiculously weak though. 

“Uh, thanks,” Tony says, bewildered, wondering what in the hell just happened. 

***

“Seriously?” Tony sighs as he hears the sliding door open and close behind him. He doesn’t know which one of them it is, but it doesn’t really matter anyway. “Do you think there are snipers on the Chrysler building just waiting for me to step out on the balcony at 5 AM?” 

“I was awake anyway, so JARVIS warned me,” Steve says quietly as he steps closer to Tony on the balcony, sitting down in the lounge chair next to him. Tony doesn’t ask why Steve was awake. He knows those supersoldiers don’t need a whole lot of sleep. Tony thinks that Steve can probably guess that Tony hasn’t gone to bed yet, after an all-nighter in the workshop. 

“Does it make you nervous, that nothing has happened?” Tony asks, looking out over the city. New York is never really dark, the display of lights and muffled sounds from the streets - they’re up high enough for it not to be disruptive - quietly washing over them. 

“Does it you?” Steve counters, but he doesn’t sound accusatory, which Tony greatly appreciates. He realizes it’s his own fault they’re in this mess. He could have been more diplomatic, he could have avoided bringing down the wrath of the New York mafia on himself - and by consequence on the rest of the team. He feels guilty about it, even though he knows he can’t really change himself. 

“I don’t know,” Tony shrugs. If he’s completely honest with himself, he’s been a bit more preoccupied with other things lately. “I’m starting to wonder if we’re being paranoid, or if my team of bodyguards are just that effective.” 

Steve huffs out a silent laugh. 

“How sick are you of all of us?” Steve asks, a hint of amusement audible. 

“To be honest…” Tony starts, then wavers a bit. He’s kind of itching to say something, to maybe ask Steve for advice, but at the same time he doesn’t really know how, or what to ask. “I don’t seem to be seeing all of you...uh, an equal amount?” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Steve turn to look at him. “Oh?” Steve asks, but his casual demeanor misses the mark. Steve is many things but he’d make for a terrible spy.

“I wonder why that is,” Tony says deliberately, a little bit more intrigued now. 

Steve is quiet for a second, which is an answer in itself because anyone else would have asked Tony to clarify by now. 

“So what’s the deal with that, Steve?” Tony asks, shifting in his seat so he can take a better look at him. 

“What do you mean?” Steve asks, a sudden interest in the floor between his feet. 

“You know you’re terrible at hiding things, right?” Tony says with a smile. Steve’s eyes snap up, and he looks a bit embarrassed. “You know him better than anyone,” Tony goes on, and he knows he doesn’t need to specify who he’s talking about, “So why has he taken it upon himself to be my personal shadow these days?”

“We all just want to keep you safe, Tony,” Steve deflects. 

“And I’m grateful for that, don’t get me wrong,” Tony says, because it bears repeating, “I know you guys are sacrificing a lot for my mistake - ”

“You’d do the same for us,” Steve shakes his head, like he’s shrugging off the remark, “We’re all in this together.” 

“Yeah, yeah, no man left behind and all that, I get it,” Tony smiles, warmly, “But that still doesn’t answer my question.” 

Steve sighs, tilts his head away from Tony to look out at the city. 

“He seems to take it… more personal?” Tony tries to prod gently. He’s oddly nervous, saying it out loud. Like it makes it more real somehow, and not just a figment of his imagination, no matter how ridiculous it seems. “And I don’t know if that’s just, I don’t know, his protective side or some kind of Winter Soldier thing, or if it’s…  _ me _ ?” 

Steve nods, like he’s contemplating things, like he’s trying to figure it out himself. As if they’re not talking about his best friend here; as if he doesn’t already know the answer. Maybe Tony feels a little bit bad about putting Steve on the spot, but the truth is that he doesn’t quite know how to deal with things like this. He feels like he needs more data to figure it all out. There are things bubbling up inside of him, things he didn’t know could be there, things he wasn’t expecting, and he’d quelch them down, only… Maybe he doesn’t need to? As ridiculous as that sounds. Because surely there is still some kind of other explanation, something that Tony simply hasn’t thought about and he’s going to feel so unbelievably stupid when he figures it all out and then realizes that he thought maybe… 

“It’s not really my place to tell,” Steve says eventually, a little apologetic. 

“But there’s something to tell,” Tony says and it isn’t a question. 

He can see Steve swallow. “He’s been through a lot,” he adds. 

“I know,” Tony says, softly. They all have a history, all have personal dramas and tragedies in their past, but Bucky’s certainly is a doozy. Tony is very aware of that. 

“He’s come so far and I know that he has this tough exterior, but…” Steve trails off. 

“I know,” Tony nods, because he really does. Bucky may be hardened on the outside, but Tony is fairly certain that there’s an extremely fragile center hidden deep inside of him. 

“So whatever… you know, however…” Steve sighs, like he isn’t at all sure of what to say, but Tony understands him anyway. 

“I won’t be an asshole,” Tony says firmly, because even if he still doesn’t know what any of this means, or how he feels about any of it, he can at least promise that. 

There’s a soft smile appearing on Steve’s face as he looks at Tony and echoes, “I know.” It sounds a lot like ‘thank you’. 

***

Peter insists on television - slash - binge watch evening and it seems like Tony isn’t the only one that can’t resist Peter’s infectious enthusiasm, so an evening filled with binge watching it is. There are pillows and blankets all over the couches and floor, there’s soda bottles everywhere, and Bruce and Natasha are popping popcorn in the adjacent kitchen as Clint brings out a whole plateau full of ice cream cartons and toppings. 

“I have never heard of this televised program,” Thor frowns as Peter has JARVIS line up the episodes. 

“You’ll get caught up in no time, Mister Odinson,” Peter says, and then gives him an elaborate resume of everything he’s missed in the first two seasons. Tony watches amused as Peter’s arms wave and his voice gets a little high pitched out of sheer enthusiasm, and Thor takes it all in with the concentration of a man listening to a battle plan, nodding solemnly in all the right places. 

Tony’s eyes quickly wander over to where Bucky and Steve are sitting on top of a few laid out pillows, having a tug-of-war with a bowl of Skittles. 

“Stop it,” Bucky grins as he pulls the bowl towards him, even though Steve’s hand blocks it, causing some of the candies to spill over. 

“You’re a hog,” Steve accuses with a laugh, picking up a few Skittles and throwing them at Bucky’s face. 

Bucky opens his mouth just in time and manages to catch one, though most fall in his lap and on the floor. There are two that get caught in his hair though and Steve bellows out a laugh. 

“Punk,” Bucky mumbles, shaking his hair out. 

“You’ve always been a hog,” Steve says, tugging the bowl closer to himself again. 

“There were no Skittles in our time, Steve!” Bucky rolls his eyes, but his smile reaches them and Tony can’t seem to look away. 

“There were other candies, idiot,” Steve says amused. 

“And we were too poor to buy ‘em,” Bucky counters, popping some more of the colorful rounds in his mouth and chewing them exaggeratedly in Steve’s direction. 

“Gross,” Steve shakes his head, but Bucky just laughs and it’s so genuine and open, like all of a sudden he’s forgetting to be guarded and closed off and is just letting all of his defenses down and it’s… earth shattering. 

Oh, Tony thinks. 

_ Oh. _

There’s an abrupt tightening in his chest and he can feel his heart pounding furiously all of a sudden. Oh, Tony thinks, because Bucky is beautiful. And this is something Tony has always known, like an objective fact, but all of a sudden there doesn’t seem to be much objectivity about it anymore. Because it hits him that Bucky is overall quite… amazing? He’s always been gorgeous and brooding and sexy. That is definitely hard to miss. But objectively so is Steve, or Thor, or Natasha. Or most of them, really. But spending time with Bucky has taught Tony that there’s more to him, like that dry, sarcastic humor that really hits a button. Bucky is also seriously intelligent and has a real interest and knack in engineering, which is just hitting Tony unfairly in the weak spot. Tony isn’t entirely sure how to deal with that. He thinks he can handle a meaningless, shallow appreciation of male beauty. He’s not sure he can say the same about something of actual substance.

But then Bucky is smiling like he is right now and Tony can feel a tingling through his body that goes all the way down to his toes. It’s something he hasn’t felt in a long time, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with it. 

“Coming through!” Natasha calls out as she pushes past Tony with two huge bowls of popcorn, breaking through Tony’s thoughts. 

“Salted caramel over here!” Bruce says as he also emerges with a big bowl, and Sam perks up from his seat and makes grabby hands at the bowl. 

They all settle into their respective seats, Natasha squished between Clint and Bruce on the huge couch, with Thor flanking Bruce. Steve and Bucky on pillows on the floor, now joined by Sam. Peter plopping down next to Tony on the smaller couch, tucking his feet under his butt. 

“Let's do this!” Clint calls out, and JARVIS starts the show where they last left off. 

It’s nice and homey and comfortable, and though Tony’s hands would normally itch to go do some work down at the workshop, he settles in to enjoy this time with his found family, to turn down his brain and just have a good time. It’s surprisingly enjoyable, having Peter pressed in against his side, hearing the laughs and comments flow over him. 

Every now and then Tony can’t help but look over at Bucky. The TV casts a warm glow over his face, making his eyes gleam. Tony watches as Bucky tucks a string of hair behind his ear, watches as he laughs at a funny scene, watches as Sam stuffs some potato chips into his mouth and crunches deliberately in Bucky’s ear. He gets a shove from Bucky in return. Tony is defenseless against the smile that grows on his face. 

They watch episode after episode, as salty treats, sugary food and drinks get consumed at an unhealthy pace. When Peter drinks straight out of a two liter Fanta bottle, Tony briefly wonders if someone should say something but decides that being a responsible adult is overrated. It’s not like they don’t work off the calories in training or fights, or some simply by having the unfair advantage of an unnatural metabolism. Bruce falls asleep against Thor’s shoulder somewhere along the way - which is kind of adorable - and Natasha’s legs are thrown over Clint’s lap unceremoniously. Peter burps loudly and when Steve reprimands him spontaneously, it causes everyone to laugh so hard it wakes Bruce up again. 

Things calm down again as the episodes progress, until they’re watching a scene with the main character sitting in a car with his love interest, and he finally leans in to kiss him softly. It’s absolutely involuntary that Tony’s eyes wander over to Bucky again, only to find him looking back. 

Tony feels like a deer caught in headlights, freezes in place but can’t bring himself to look away. Bucky blinks as he stares right back, looking at Tony like he’s trying to figure things out just from his face. Tony wonders if Bucky is doing a better job at it than he is. 

Then there’s a soft smile tugging at Bucky’s lips and Tony can feel it flutter in the pit of his stomach. 

***

Tony should really be used to having a million confusing thoughts running through his head by now. It’s pretty much his natural state of being. Though usually it’s blueprints and physics problems and business memos and how to build a shield around the world to protect everyone. It’s rarely been breathtaking supersoldiers with long flowing hair and stares that can kill. Or how he feels about them. (Or how they feel about him.)

Right now though, all Tony can think about is Bucky in a tuxedo. Which is the sight in front of him at the charity gala they’re currently attending. Tony is accompanied by two spies and two supersoldiers. They  _ all _ look undeniably stunning - do his friends really have to be that attractive? All of them? - but it all fades to nothing when he catches sight of Bucky. In a tuxedo. 

The evening is nice if somewhat dull. Tony goes through the motions of the usual social schmoozing, checkbook in hand when the charity auction starts. It’s pretty uneventful if he’s quite honest about it. The most interesting thing is most definitely the way Bucky looks all dressed up and Tony isn’t ashamed to admit that he hopes the press gets some good pictures of that, which he will most definitely download on his phone later that evening. It’s a sight to preserve for all eternity. Future generations will be grateful - and thirsty - for it. 

The event itself seems to run smoothly, no sign of any impending danger, which should be a clue in itself. When it’s time to go, Natasha and Steve are checking the exits towards the garage as Clint gets the limo. Bucky is Tony’s personal bodyguard - once again - as they make their way out of the event. Tony is already thinking of getting out of the confines of his tux and taking a nice hot shower and debating whether or not to slip down to his workshop or just go to bed and get a good night’s sleep for once. 

He never sees it coming, if he’s entirely honest. He blames Bucky and the tuxedo. 

All of a sudden Natasha is shouting, though Tony can’t see her, just as Clint gets the limo around the corner, and a couple of hooded men with guns appear in Tony’s line of sight. Steve is already pouncing on one, but before Tony can join in the fight he gets pulled out of the way by Bucky with great force and multiple gunshots echo through the underground garage. Out of the corner of his eye, Tony can see Natasha punch one of the assailants straight in the face, and then there’s another gunshot, close by this time, way too close, but he can’t see a thing that’s happening because Bucky has plastered himself all over Tony and is shoving him roughly into the limo.

“Drive!” Bucky barks out at Clint, “Get him the hell out of here!” 

Tires screech as the limo pulls out at high speed and Tony is still trying to catch his breath. 

“The others…” he stammers, trying to peek out the window but they’re already out on the street and there’s no way to see what’s going down in the garage. 

“They can handle it,” Bucky says commandingly, “It’s you they want.”

Bucky’s hands are roaming over Tony’s torso, patting down to check if he’s injured. “Are you okay? Did you get hit?” Bucky asks, his voice steady but rough. 

“No,” Tony manages to get out, because he’s fine. He never even had a chance to realize what was going on, let alone get hurt. He didn’t even get a chance to help out, which is not a feeling that sits well with Tony. “Steve. Nat. We have to go back and help them.” They can’t just leave them there, no man - or woman - gets left behind. 

“They’re fine,” Clint shouts back through the open divider. 

“But - ” Tony says, shifting in his seat like he’s going to make a grab for the steering wheel himself to turn them around. They need to go back. 

“Tony, they’re fine,” Clint says firmly as he turns his head a bit and sticks his finger in his ear to get through to him. A comm. “Natasha confirms it. All the bad guys are down. They’ve got ‘em. She and Steve are fine.” 

Tony sags down into his seat, relief washing over him. It’s short-lived though, because when he looks over at Bucky there’s a dreaded unease settling in him. Bucky’s face looks pained and pale, his jaw set as he’s breathing in sharply through his nose. He looks hyper-focused and for a split second Tony wonders if maybe Bucky got triggered in all of this.

“Bucky?” Tony asks, anxious.

“Get him home,” Bucky says to Clint, pointedly avoiding looking back at Tony. 

“Bucky?!” Tony says more forcefully this time, leaning in to him, and then he sees it. The red patch on the crisp white shirt, peeking out from under his black lapel. “ _ Bucky! _ ” Tony calls out, his hands scrambling at Bucky’s jacket, fumbling for the button. 

“I’m fine,” Bucky says automatically, trying to push Tony’s hands off. 

“Hospital!” Tony shouts over at Clint, making his way for Bucky’s button again, opening his jacket to determine the damage. “He’s hurt, we need to get him to a hospital!” Tony gasps as his hands come away wet and red. He’s willing his eyes to focus, his heart to keep on beating. The blood is warm and sticky on his hands. 

“The Tower!” Bucky orders Clint instead, “It’s nothing, I’m fine. Get him to the Tower.” 

Tony can see Clint nod and he doesn’t change direction, which is no good at all. Bucky needs medical attention, Bucky got…  _ Oh God _ , Bucky got shot. Bucky got shot and the bullet was meant for Tony. 

A bout of nausea washes over Tony, his fingers trembling as he peels away Bucky’s lapel further. 

“Buck…” Tony whispers, his voice raspy and uneven, his eyes glued to the bright red patch on Bucky’s otherwise pristine shirt. 

“It’s a through and through, and I heal quickly, remember?” Bucky says, his voice unnaturally steady for someone with a gunshot wound. If it wasn’t for the pale color of his skin or the drop of sweat making its way down his temple, Tony would have a hard time knowing anything was wrong. 

“You don’t know that,” Tony says, because maybe some vital organs are hit and Bucky’s rush of adrenaline is preventing him from realizing it. Chickens can continue to run around for several seconds after their heads are cut off, is a weird and not at all helpful thought that pops up in Tony’s head all of a sudden, and he thinks he swallows away some bile. “You could be - ”

“I  _ do _ know,” Bucky says, pressing his metal hand into his side - to stop the bleeding or to stop Tony from seeing the wound, Tony doesn’t know. “This isn’t my first time getting shot, Tony. It’s nothing, don’t worry.” 

“That is really not as reassuring as you think it is,” Tony says, a nervous huff of laughter escaping his mouth. 

“It should be,” Bucky says, and he actually has the nerve to smirk slightly. 

“We’re here,” Clint announces as comes to a halt in the garage of the Tower and the car door opens immediately. 

Tony braces himself on instinct, reaching out for Bucky, but it’s just Sam, Thor, and Bruce sticking their heads in. 

“You guys can never just have a quiet evening out, can you?” Sam asks, shaking his head with a sigh.

“He’s shot,” Tony says with an edge to his voice, his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, because he really has no time for niceties. “Bruce?” 

“Got him,” Bruce says and Tony carefully starts pushing Bucky out of the limo in front of him, guiding him into Bruce’s care. 

“Come ‘ere, Princess,” Tony can hear Sam mutter as he helps him out. “People can’t take you anywhere.” 

“I hate you,” Bucky mumbles back, hunched over as he clutches his side. 

“Can you walk?” Thor asks, looking solemnly at Bucky. 

“Yeah,” Bucky says, nodding, “I’m fine.” 

“Carry him anyway, Thor,” Tony says and he doesn’t care that he gets an outraged look back from Bucky. The guy shouldn’t have to walk to his own sick bed, for God’s sake. Tony would carry him himself if he thought he’d have any chance of being able to hold the weight without his suit.

“Of course,” Thor says, and before Bucky can protest he is swooped up into Thor’s arms like he weighs nothing at all. 

“Bring him up to the sick-bay,” Bruce says as they head towards the elevator. 

“I don’t need to - ” Bucky sighs and Tony can see him rolling his eyes over Thor’s shoulder. 

“JARVIS, can you do a scan of his vital signs?” Bruce asks as the elevator doors close and JARVIS’ response is cut off from Tony’s hearing. 

“The police are at the scene.” 

Tony startles at Clint’s voice next to him. 

“They’re taking the mob guys into custody,” Clint goes on, “Steve and Nat are giving their statements. They’ll be back once they’re done over there.” 

“We shouldn’t have left them,” Tony says, frowning, an uneasy feeling still in his stomach. This is not the way they do things. “We don’t leave each other like that. We shouldn’t - ”

“There was a protocol,” Clint says, cutting him off. And why is this the first Tony’s hearing of this? “Cap has an entire playbook.”

“Of course he does,” Tony sighs, shaking his head. He’s really tired all of a sudden. “And I’m Whitney Houston in this scenario?” 

Clint shrugs with an amused smile. “Only Kevin Costner didn’t get to heroically carry you out of there to the sound of sweeping music.” 

“No…” Tony says, swallowing away the lump in his throat as he looks down at the blood on his hands. “He just took a bullet for me.” 

***

Tony leans against the doorway as he watches Bucky button up a clean shirt over his bandages, sitting on the edge of the examination table. 

“Through and through, no vital organs were hit,” Bruce tells him as he prepares to step out of the room, “He’s already healing. It’s quite remarkable, he probably won’t even have a scar.” 

“You’re sure?” Tony asks and he immediately feels guilty for implying that he doubts Bruce’s medical skills, “I mean…” 

“He’s fine, Tony,” Bruce says with a reassuring smile and a pat on Tony’s shoulder as he steps out of the room, leaving him alone with Bucky. 

“That tux was brand new,” Bucky deadpans as he pokes his finger through one of the holes in his jacket, before discarding it next to him with a sigh. 

“You looked really good in it too,” Tony breathes out as he takes a few steps closer to the examination table, the door whooshing shut behind him. 

“Yeah?” Bucky quirks an eyebrow at him, a smile tugging at his lips. Like somehow he was still insecure about how incredible he looked in his formal wear. Tony would wonder how that’s even possible, but his mind is elsewhere. 

“Bucky, you…” Tony says. He takes a deep breath as he looks at Bucky. Bucky, who is sitting there on the edge of the table, a clean shirt hiding the wound that he got while protecting Tony, and yet he’s smiling softly and looking at Tony like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “You took a bullet for me.” 

Bucky purses his lips together for a second, his eyes still on Tony. Then he just shrugs. “I’d do it again.” 

Tony feels like the air is punched out of his lungs, and it pushes his body forward, towards Bucky like there is no other place to go. His hands are cupping Bucky’s face and his lips are pressed against Bucky’s and he closes his eyes because it feels like the entire world is spinning around him. 

Tony doesn’t have time to worry about what he’s doing, because Bucky’s arms slide around his waist instantly and Bucky’s kissing him back, all tongue and teeth and desperation, and Tony’s entire body feels like it’s on fire. Tony groans into the kiss, fingers gripping the back of Bucky’s neck and sliding up into his hair, curling around the long strands, tightening. It teases a shiver out of Bucky, information that Tony files away for later. 

“Don’t do that again,” Tony mutters desperately against Bucky’s lips, without breaking away an inch. Even though he’s pressed up against Bucky, it still doesn’t feel close enough. He’s afraid that Bucky is going to slip through his fingers any second now, so he clings as tight as he can. 

“Do what?” Bucky asks, clearly not opposed to the closeness as he nuzzles his nose under Tony’s jawline, breathing in Tony’s scent. 

“Get hurt,” Tony says, fingers digging into Bucky’s skin, “Get shot. Risk your life.” Tony swallows. “For me.” 

“I can’t promise that,” Bucky says, pressing kisses against Tony’s jaw, his cheek, his lips. 

“Bucky…” Tony mumbles, torn between wanting to keep his mouth pressed firmly against Bucky’s, and talking this through. 

But then Bucky’s hands find their way underneath Tony’s jacket and shirt, unexpectedly warm metal and soft fingertips running over the small of Tony’s back, pushing him closer, and Tony loses every single thought in his head and just loses himself in Bucky. 

***

“This is mindblowing, you get that, right?” Tony asks as he trails his fingers over the skin on Bucky’s side, on the now closed ridge of flesh that was once - yesterday - a bullet wound. 

“I was kinda hoping there were other things we did that you found mindblowing, to be honest,” Bucky mutters, his arms hooked underneath his head. 

“You got shot _ last night _ ,” Tony stresses, his thumb rubbing once again over the raised patch of skin. 

“Again, there were other things about last night...” Bucky trails off in a mumble, contracting his stomach muscles in a manner that Tony is fairly sure is intentional. Tony isn’t complaining though. 

“Does it still hurt?” Tony asks, laying his palm flat over Bucky’s skin, like he can somehow absorb any pain there ever was by doing so. 

“It itches a bit,” Bucky says, shrugging his shoulders as much as he can in his current position, which is flat on his back in Tony’s bed with his head pillowed on his arms, looking at Tony who is pillowed on his chest.

Tony presses his lips down gently over the almost completely healed wound before resting his head underneath Bucky’s pecs. 

“I don’t want you to do that again,” Tony says, his thumb sliding back and forth over Bucky’s skin. 

“Tony…” Bucky says, softly. 

“I know,” Tony sighs, closing his eyes. 

“This might not be over,” Bucky says, his left arm coming to rest over Tony’s shoulder. 

“I know,” Tony says again, focusing on the steady thump of Bucky’s heart underneath his ear, trying to let it ground him.

“And I would do it again,” Bucky says, his hand curling over Tony’s. “And again.” 

“I know,” Tony repeats one more time. He knows this is a useless conversation, and he can’t even blame Bucky for it, because… “I’d do the same for you.” Tony says. 

Bucky’s fingers tighten a little bit over the curve of Tony’s shoulder. “I don’t want you to, either,” he says softly. 

Tony huffs out a breathy laugh. “Well tough luck, Mister,” Tony says, poking carefully at Bucky’s side. 

“Hey!” Bucky calls out, as he contracts those damn distracting stomach muscles again. 

“This really is mindblowing,” Tony says, tracing his finger once more over Bucky’s patched up skin. 

“Now what do I need to do to distract you from this damn wound?” Bucky asks, and in an instant Tony is pushed with his back against the mattress, Bucky’s legs straddling his waist.

“I don’t know,” Tony drawls out with a smile, his hands coming up to caress up and down Bucky’s thighs. “As I recall, you managed quite well last night.” 

“Oh good,” Bucky says, with a phoney nonchalance, “‘cause I wasn’t sure, the way you kept ogling my injury…” 

“Don’t worry,” Tony says with a smirk, letting his eyes wander ostentatiously over Bucky’s entire body, “There’s a hell of a lot more I’m ogling.” 

“Good,” Bucky says, leaning down to press a kiss to Tony’s lips, his hair falling down on either side of Tony’s face. 

The kiss is sweet and unhurried, a promise and a support, and maybe this whole mess of Tony’s fuck-up isn’t over yet, but Tony’s confidence is growing that it’ll be okay anyway. He’s discovering that it’s near impossible not to feel safe in Bucky’s arms. 

***

_ Fin _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  



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